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Instead of an old man almost decrepit, his children, his wife, and the notary saw a Balthazar Claes who was forty years old, and whose courteous and affable presence was full of its former attractions. The weariness and suffering betrayed by the thin face and the clinging of the skin to the bones, had in themselves a sort of charm. "Good-evening, Pierquin," said Monsieur Claes.
Nine miles from the town Balthazar was met by Felicie on horseback, escorted by her two brothers, Emmanuel, Pierquin, and some of the nearest friends of the three families.
It is not so long since my mother uttered her last words that I have forgotten them. My father is incapable of robbing his children," she continued, giving way to tears of distress. "You misunderstand him, Monsieur Pierquin." "But, my dear cousin, if your father gets back to chemistry " "We are ruined; is that what you mean?" "Yes, utterly ruined.
Even Pierquin could not enter without respect the presence of that caged lion, whose eyes, full of baffled power, now calmed by sadness and faded from excess of light, seemed to proffer a prayer for charity which the mouth dared not utter.
His good heart lived so completely in the present, he clung so firmly to a happiness which he believed to be fugitive, that Marguerite sometimes reproached herself for not generously holding out her hand and saying, "Let us at least be friends." Pierquin continued his suit with an obstinacy which is the unreflecting patience of fools.
Once more a husband and a father, he took his youngest child from his wife's lap and tossed him in the air. "See that little fellow!" he exclaimed to the notary. "Doesn't such a pretty creature make you long to marry? Take my word for it, my dear Pierquin, family happiness consoles a man for everything. Up, up!" he cried, tossing Jean into the air; "down, down! up! down!"
It is necessary to know the value of his property before deciding whether to accept it as sufficient security, or whether we must fall back on the legal rights of minors." Marguerite rose. "Do not go away, my dear cousin," continued Pierquin; "my words concern you you and your father both. You know how truly I share your grief, but to-day you must give your attention to legal details.
It is no longer a question of chemistry, my friend; we are to keep accounts in Bretagne." Claes rushed precipitately from the laboratory, and went downstairs to take a last breakfast with his family, at which Pierquin and Monsieur de Solis were present.
A few days after Madame Claes's death he took occasion to speak to Marguerite, and began operations with a cleverness which might have succeeded if love had not given her the power of clear insight and saved her from mistaking appearances that were all the more specious because Pierquin displayed his natural kindheartedness, the kindliness of a notary who thinks himself loving while he protects a client's money.
Balthazar asked his daughter no questions as to her stay in Paris, doubtless to preserve his parental dignity. Emmanuel de Solis imitated his reserve; but Pierquin, accustomed to be told all family secrets, said to Marguerite, concealing his curiosity under a show of liveliness: "Well, my dear cousin, you have seen Paris and the theatres "
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